The Farshadow
The God of Second Chances Worshiped under cloak of night in small disheveled shacks, whispered between shoulders of those who know the truth, and rarely mentioned in polite conversation; this being is known many names. The Far Shadow, The Planes Strider, The Deal Maker, The God of Second Chances. Legends Dwelling beyond the edge of perception The Farshadow walks, watching the ebb and flow of reality for any opportunities. Her methods are curt and her demeanor both somber and effervescent, she is unlike most gods that are worshiped on the material plane. Stories of grand adventures and divine mischief are whispered among those that believe in The Farshadow. Tales of a young woman hopping dimensions and stealing souls, not from the mortals who possess them, but the Gods who lay claim to them. The General of Peace One story tells of a great General, commanding his armies and planning the downfall of his enemies. The General is known as a stoic and just man, a man of conviction and honor; even his enemies give him a measure of respect for his professionalism. However, during one long siege the General succumb to a moment of weakness, and in his impatience ordered his army to storm the city! He watched in horror as his men fell right into an ambush, and his cries for retreat were deafened by the death wails of his fallen army. After the war his comrades and countrymen all tell him the same things, "It wasn't your fault" - "Bad things happen in war" - "Your loss didn't cost us the war, we forgive you". But the one man who could never forgive his rash actions was himself, and as the once proud General sank into despair, he took his own life. The General's soul arrived before his Patron God, Torag, who's mighty beard furrows in anger at the sinful actions of his follower. To Torag, suicide is a condemnable transgression, for Torag gave life to the world, and this selfish General took his own life of his own accord. For this sin, Torag banished the General's fragile soul to Avernus, the first circle of Hell. As the wayward soul is cast into the aether and traveling on it's way to the clutches of the damned, a shadow steps out from the edge of perception. "Do you want a second chance?" a young woman's voice whispers from the void. "What choice do I have..." asks the General, who's despair at his sin weighs his soul down to it's fate. "Come with me, General. I will give you a chance to right your mistake" the pale shadow smiles. "And the cost?" The general retorts. "... you and I go on an Adventure after your work is done, and your soul is mine. Close your eyes" Everything goes black as the General's soul falls into Hell, his eyes close and his arms open. After a moment he feels weightless and empty. In that void the voiced called out again. "Now open your eyes" Light filled his vision, he was not in a lake of fire or a poisonous landscape... he was in a field, with rolling pastures and warm sun. He recognized the land, he was home. When he returned to his house it was dusty, but still standing, and in the mirror was a face he didn't recognize. He had been given a new body, a new face, and a new chance at life. The reborn General never spoke of his former life, and instead traveled his homeland and to other nations, sowing the seeds of peace and arranging treaties. With a second chance at life he devoted every moment to making sure that his world would know peace. Over years he had established trade networks and alliances, rules of engagement and laws of war. He even started the concept of charities to help former soldiers struggling with suicidal thoughts, and counseling to reintegration them. All of this guided by his new god, the God of Second Chances. At his old age he lays in bed, surrounded by the new friends he had made in his second life, and among them, from the edge of perception, steps a young woman. Her skin as pale as the moon, her hair a crystalline blue, and wearing loose black robes on her thin frame. The old man dies, and when he opens his eyes he stands alone with the woman. "What happens now... Farshadow... what is my fate?" the old man's soul asks amid the aether. The woman grins from ear to ear "We're going on an Adventure!" The Kidnapped Cleric In a small nation with small people there lived an old woman. As a good cleric of Sarenrae she devoted her life to healing the sick and protecting the weak. But her little acts of kindness would soon see a grander calling as the minions of dark forces marched on her lands. Undead began to swell in numbers, and whole villages vanished overnight to the rotting hoards. The Cleric took up her holy symbol and set forth on a quest to rid the land of evil, and with the shining light of her God she banished the putrid beings one by one. Swift Justice would come to any who used such fowl magic to harm the innocent, she would make sure of that! But soon she faced resistance in the from of Demons, powerful and violent, and too much for the little old cleric to handle on her own. The abyssal monsters were too much for her, and one battle after another was wearing out her old body, and taking it toll on the innocent lives she couldn't protect. In a moment a weakness, a Devil appeared. Devils are far more cunning than their hated Demonic counterparts, and the guile of the Devil soon fooled the old Cleric. She was tricked into giving the Devil her soul in exchange for power, and not a moment before she had shook it's hand she was struck down by the Devil's bony tail. The Cleric died, and her soul felt the burning chains of Hell holding her tight. The Devil laughs as lesser Devils come to grab the chains, dragging the old woman down. Far from her homeland, long gone from the mortal world, the Cleric had failed to protect her lands and was blinded by her quest... unable to see the pitfalls of the Devils' trap. Then, out from the edges of perception stepped a shadow "Do you want a second chance?" "YES! Please help me! These foul creatures tricked me!" The old Cleric pleas as the Devils snarl and hiss at the strange shadow that had come upon them. "Very well" the pale shadow steps forward, her long staff shaping to a Scythe. In one blinding slash the Devils were cut down and obliterated from existence, and the chains shatter into flashes of light. "Come with me and I will aid you in the destruction of the Demons in your homeland, and in return your soul is mine." "WAIT A MINUTE!" shouted the old woman "Nooo no no you aren't fooling me! I've learned my lesson I'm not giving you anything!" she wags her finger and crosses her arms. The Farshadow's mouth drops in disbelief, only for her lips to curl into a smile. She starts to giggle, tossing her Scythe away and holding her stomach "Well I'll Be! You aren't dumb after all! I respect someone learning from their mistakes. Fair is fair I won't take your soul" The pale god grins "How about we come to a deal, I give you a new, younger body, and I'll even grant you my boon. Once your righteous quest is done I will escort you to your Goddess Sarenrae". "And... what do you wish in exchange for this generous gesture?" The old Cleric scowls. "You put in a good word with Sarenrae... She's sort of mad at me" "... what?" The holy-woman's shoulders sag "What do you mean... mad at you?" "Weeeeell... I sort of... maybe stole some souls from her. They're fine! Perfectly happy" She gestures behind her, suddenly dozens of souls appear, each one unique and strong. A tall prince, a wise Goblin, and even a Great General. "These are my friends, we go on Adventures... I sort of stole some of them from your Goddess and she's been a pain in my butt... She keeps sending Thalachos at me and he is a jerk... so I need him to leave me alone." "... And all you want is for me to plead your case to my Goddess? To say that your are good and have good intentions for the souls you've kidnapped?" "More like refurbished!" A soul calls out from behind the Farshadow. The pale God adds to the comment "I'm not asking for results, whether Ol' Rae-Rae listens to you is of no cost to you. Just inform her I would like her brutes off my case. Then I'll help you kill some Undead! Deal? Just say so, I don't need a handshake" her hands slip behind her back. The old Cleric frowns and takes a deep breath "It beats being stuck between the Planes... Deal!" In the blink of an eye the Cleric returned to the mortal realm. Her grey hair was filled to the warm amber it used to be in her youth, her back no longer ached and her face felt soft and smooth. She was at the prime of her youth, with a brand new set of Armor and a Scimitar in her hand. On the blade of the weapon shown an Inscription. "An Open Letter to Sarenrae, please don't hate me. Love ~The God of Second Chances." The undead would face a foe that they had never known that day! The Demons mount an attack in response but were equally cut down by the Mighty Battle Cleric! Villages were saved, towns rallied together, militia's formed and grew, and a great war on the Extraplaner Evils was waged! Never loosing a battle again, the Battle Cleric found the source of the Undead infections and Demonic Agents, and closed the rift between the worlds. Her home was safe, and she spent the rest of her second life helping rebuild her people's land. But she never forgot the message she was to deliver, and soon her Goddess was going to have the most unusual prayer delivered to her majestic feet. Church There doesn't seem to be a centralized church, or even an organization of worship for The Farshadow. Only those who have had visions, dreams, or direct interaction with the being tend to believe in her. If gathered into a room, people with similar experiences with this planes-walker would give wildly different opinions of her. Some would treat her as a God, with worship and original prayers. Other would curse ever meeting her, and express annoyance with the terms of their deal. But most would say that she is a Personal God, a friend who found them in need and answered the call. Any formal gathering in the name of The God of Second Chances would meet in small, dark spaces like shacks, caves, or tunnels. In hushed voices they would whisper stories and discuss the true origin and nature of this being. Debates would be common as to The Farshadow's true intent and motive for gathering souls, as well as comparison of each others unique gifts and abilities she has bestowed to them. Spell Preparation Rituals Communion with The Farshadow can be reached in many ways, most of which involve quite meditation and introspection in dark, quiet spaces. Sitting oneself in the corner of a room with one's back to the wall would be expected, as the corner could be seen as a converging of three planes (The floor, walls, and ceiling) to represent The Farshadow's realm, known to some as "The Edge of Perception". Most direct communication with The Farshadow comes in the forms of cryptic dreams and vivid visions. Some particularly sensitive individuals might hallucinate in waking hours, seeing a manifestation of the woman's pale face and dark clothing. In these visions she is sometimes serious and somber, other times cheerful and excited. Her mood depends on the events that occur in the person's second life, and the relationship between them and their God. The Farshadow is a Personal God who feels the need to directly interact with her subjects and followers. Backstory Once a mortal noble woman living in the broken, sourced kingdom of Ascalon; she took to magic with a passionate fervor. From evocations, incantations, summoning, and the healing arts; she excelled in her studies and impressed all who saw her with her mastery of the Arcana. But her one true fancy was that of Necromancy, the art of bringing the dead back for a short time within the mortal coil. However a measure of guilt over using such beings for her own selfish needs began to weigh on her, and so she drafted a private code of conduct and a philosophy on how to treat the dead with their due respect, and still reap the benefits of the Dark Arts. She founded what would later be known as "The Codex of Necromantic Ethics" which was used as a basis for Krytan policy relating to the Dark Arts. How this formally mortal woman became a minor deity is still a strong debate among those who wish to know more about her. Yet she herself does not make mention of her past, and any direct questions pertaining to her mortal life are skillfully dodged and the subject rapidly changed.